THAT voice
by Everything-In-Focus-94
Summary: *Inspired by a conversation me and my friends had* Because I like to think that his voice affects Characters in the show as well as us viewers... Sherlock is confused and amused by their reactions. *Not an actual story but a series of drabbles*
1. Chapter 1: Molly

THAT Voice 

'_He has got a rather beautiful voice hasn't he? Could you imagine him whispering dirty things in your ear bed at night?'_

Molly had simply giggled, slightly drunk, under the influence of one too many vodka and cranberries although she would never admit it. She didn't even think about the conversation until the following morning, when Sherlock walked into her lab.

Her eyes widened everything flooding back in brilliant colour. Going out with her friends, telling them how this guy at work had possibly the most beautiful voice she'd ever heard, ADMITTING (this one made her shudder) that she'd kept a voicemail from him, playing it to her friends, giggling... that's all she remembered. But that line.

'_Dirty things in your ear at night'_

That ...simply refused to get out of her head. Then the man himself just happened to stroll in her lab. Fantastic... now back to reality.

Molly would have liked to have said that she had twirled round to face him, bravely, hair long and luxurious swirling behind her, grinning at him with red painted lips. Sherlock would have gaped at her beauty and swept her into his arms, kissing her and declaring his love for her. But no.

Molly turned at the commotion and squeaked as she saw a familiar figure in the door. Cue memory flooding back. She flushed bright red, gasping and promptly spilling her tea all over the files on her desk. She frantically tried to mop up the mess; with what she was sure was spare paper. Sherlock simply surveyed her, eyebrow raised from the doorway.

"You ok there, Molly?" He asked coolly. Molly froze. There it was. THAT voice. Every syllable pronounced and stretched with his clipped accent, that deep, husky tone... that definitive tone, which she'd seldom heard elsewhere. And they way he said her name... His soft lips (they were sure they were soft... warm too she'd bet) forming the syllables, tongue rolling over his teeth, _just_ touching his bottom lip, teeth white, lips pink. Molly just stared, forgetting how to speak.

"Huh?" she replied .Sherlock's eyebrows flew into his hair again.

"I asked if you were ok..." he said softly. Molly sighed internally her stomach fluttering.

"Yeah fine thanks you?" she said in what she prayed was a steady voice. Her brain appeared to have stopped working.

"Yes I'm good thank you... I'm here looking for my results from the other afternoon, you got them to hand?" he asked strolling into the room, back to his cool calculated self. Molly looked on her desk and behind her laptop.

"That is so weird, I had them..." she looked at the sodden mess that she was still holding... She could just about make out numbers written in perfect, tiny writing in perfectly drawn straight lines. It appeared that she literally did have them to hand.

"Oh bullocks" she whispered looking up at Sherlock. He had his back turned to her and was casually flicking through paper on her side desk. Molly dropped the paper into the bin, praying he didn't hear the wet thump as it hit the bottom.

"Strange" he muttered. Molly punched the air triumphantly, turning it into smoothing back her hair as he turned around partway through it.

"Yeah really odd" she said, clearing her throat. Sherlock's eye flicked up and down before resting on her face.

"Are you SURE your alright?" he said clearly suspicious. She nodded an abnormally large smile on her face. Sherlock looked at her for a moment. He turned his back to her.

"Shame... I was looking forward to showing you some things" he said, his voice deep and husky. Molly flushed her mind racing. _Oh I bet he could show me a thing or two_, she thought suggestively, her eyes lingering on his slender but muscled arms and back. She could just imagine him picking her up and pinning her against the desk, kissing her neck as he whispered things in her ear. He looked over his shoulder smirking, Molly snapped out of it and looked at him awkwardly.

"Meaning the results of course" he whispered. Molly nodded hurriedly; sitting down for fear that she would fall down if she didn't. There was a definite weakness building in her knees. Sherlock walked over, placing his elbows on the desk next to her, head on hands. He looked upwards at her.

"You know Molly, there's something very... thrilling about waiting for results." He whispered, looking up at her through his eyelashes. Molly nodded along, no clue what he'd said only hearing the voice not the words themselves. He leant forward, Molly subconsciously copied him.

"You understand don't you? The waiting is nearly the best part... sitting waiting, wondering about the results. The _anticipation _is sometimes unbearable" he purred, his tongue rolling perfectly. Molly's mouth went completely dry. Sherlock smirked up at her... she appeared to be doing everything physically possible to prevent from meeting his eyes. He sat on the desk, his legs practically resting on the chair she was sitting on. Molly's eyes widened and her blush deepened.

"But nothing compared to the experiment itself... Titration Calculations, Oxidation, Stock notation... All that pure and beautiful science" he said to himself. Molly had to bite her lip as his voice, ran smooth as honey over the words. He turned to her that same smile on his face as before, warm lips forming the words, his vocal cords vibrating and creating that rich, deep voice. He leaned in even further.

"Something extremely _pleasurable _about it" he pondered, his lips inches from hers. He looked down at Molly's hands.

"You still ok Molly... your squeezing the table pretty hard" he said, laughter hinted in his voice. Molly looked down to find herself white knuckled gripping the table. She let go, flexing her fingers.

"I'm sorry Sherlock... I'm just a big distracted today. I had a night out with the girls last night." She muttered trying to calm her face down. Sherlock nodded.

"I am aware of that Molly" he said getting to his feet. Molly followed him around the room with her eyes, expecting him to deduct everything about the night from what deodorant she was wearing or something. He reached the door and turned back to survey her.

"I would appreciate it next time if you didn't call me at 2 o'clock in the morning whilst under the influence speaking about biting my neck, asking me to say words like _Antidisestablishmentarianism and ____..." ____" _he said these words deliberately huskily. Molly paled.

Sherlock gave one more small smile and left the room in a blur of blue coat and scarf. Molly sank head first into her desk, groaning as another part of the night came into focus.


	2. Chapter 2: Sally Part 1

Sally: Part 1

When Molly Hooper called me in hysterics, complaining about how she'd made an utter idiot of herself (her words not mine) in front of the man she loved (yet again her words not mine) I simply brushed it off. The idea that anyone could find... him, the freak... attractive... it simply bemused and perplexed me. That man, the one who could sense anything about them... yes the freak, attractive? With his scrawny body and his black mop of hair? ATTRACTIVE? And what was the ridiculous girl saying about his voice? How he'd spoken to her and she'd turned into a puddle on the floor? His voice? Seriously? No... I couldn't have heard that right. But even still Molly, I thought you had standards from that one night we spent on the bar circuit and then she goes and spoils it by developing a crush on him.

Sally shook her head, releasing the clip from her hair and allowing her tumbling black curls to spring free. She tugged one of them towards her eyes and snorted to herself surveying herself compared to him. What was so impressive about Sherlock's curls, he practically had the same hair as her. Hell he DID have the same hair as her; hers was a bit longer but even so. And yet she saw men and woman alike fall in love with the man every day. She even had her suspicions of the freaks latest 'flat mate', she saw the man's smile when he looked at him, you see the freak wasn't the only one who could deduce things and she'd said it once, she'd said it a thousand times, it confused her beyond belief. How people found him attractive that is... not that she could deduce things.

Sighing, she reached scrunching her hair back into its clip with one hand and placing yet another stamped document in Lestrade's outbox. She thought bitterly of Anderson's latest assignment, before staring down at the pile of paperwork. Equality in the workplace her arse.

Suddenly there were cool hands around her neck, scrunching a curl behind her hair and into her clip. She was about to jump into action when the hands disappeared from her neck and a familiar face appeared before her. It was him. She smirked recalling her and Molly's conversation from earlier on in the day. She honestly couldn't see the attraction that Molly had spoken about.

"I thought I'd give you a hand Donovan, you seemed so preoccupied with your work, I thought you would appreciate it" he purred, delivered with a dazzling smile.

_Oh hell._

Sally's mouth and brain just stopped. Dead. Looked deep into Sherlock's strange but attractive face and just failed.

"Urrr... ahem. Thanks?" she gabbled. Sherlock delivered that mind stopping smile again.

_Oh double hell._


End file.
